"You can order a fresh pizza from Italy"

The quote refers to a conversation I had with some Moldovans, about the corruption that riddles this country. A major problem is in the post office, among many other places. So many people work abroad and send money back home, that envelopes from other countries will almost always get opened if there is a suspicion that it's full of money. Thus, since so many people work abroad in Italy, apparently there are so many truck drivers paid to make trips back and forth from Moldova to Italy (to bring money), you could order a fresh pizza.

On that topic, if anyone sends a letter that looks like it could have money inside, write "Dumnezeu sa te binecuvinteze" on the outside, which is Romanian for God Bless You. Lots of religous people work in the post offices, and apparently they'll be reluctant to open an envelope that has been blessed by our lord. PS--thanks to everyone for the mail. I've written back to everyone who's sent letters, but have patience because it takes a few weeks. You can continue to send me mail to the address posted for the whole two years-it's a safe spot. If I have a reliable address in Soroca I'll post it.

So I'm back in one piece from my site visit last weekend. I officially had four families to choose from, though my partner-teacher basically tried to pimp me out to anyone we walked past. "This is Nicoleta, from NY, and she'll be teaching in Rublenita for two years. She needs a home, and the peace corps pays really well. Want to take her?" It was rather awkward. I also had a small problem with her because she was forcing me to eat every place we stopped in. She was so forceful that I had to finally say to her, since nothing else worked: Tatiana, I eat one breakfast, one lunch, and one dinner every day, and that's it. Following that highly awkward conversation she started introducing me to people in the town, including the mayor and head midwife, with: This is Nicoleta from NY. She eats one breakfast, and one dinner a day. No more.

The family I've decided to live with is a bit different from most situations. I'll be living with a 27 year old Moldovan woman, who has two kids, 3 and 8. She's been married for 8 years, and her husband has been working abroad for the last two years, and won't be back for the next three. Thus it's a bit more like a roommate...with kids. Obviously I won't call her mama gazda, and I assume she won't force me to eat or wear heels. I look foward to the companionship of living with a young woman, and of course, being around her kids, who are adorable. It's pretty amazing to think that I'll be there to see Alexandra grow from 3-5, and Christina from 8-10. Those are important developmental years. I also liked Viorca, the woman I'll be living with, because she let me go to sleep without eating dinner. Trust me, that doesn't happen in Moldova. Also, the mayor of Rublenita is her father, so I'll have an indoor approach when I try to introduce HIV/AIDS and Sex Ed into the curriculum.

[Moldovan] Home Remedies that I've learned so far: Vodka on pimples. Lilac syrup on a rash, and garlic for diarreha.

Soroca IS so beautiful. It's the first time that I feel really confident that the people who visit me in Moldova actually have a reason to come. There's a huge castle that's older than our country, it's right on the Nistru river, miles and miles of sunflowers that are in full bloom right now, and it's a twenty minute bus ride to the Ukraine.

The health center in Rublenita, the village outside of Soroca where I'll live and teach, is small but sufficient. Everyone there was really excited to meet me, and I think I'll end up collaborating with them on a lot of important projects. I already spoke to the midwive about having childbirth education classes, which is exciting but scarcy because of my limited Romanian right now--it makes me realize just how much translating I'll be doing.

Oh, I think I forgot to post about my second marriage proposal. In Mitoc, the village I'm in now, a man came running after me. He tells me that he watches me run everyday, and wants to marry me. I told him I didn't understand his language, becauseI hadn't a clue how to handle the situation, so he stated simply: Nicoleta, I love you, Nicoleta. He then proceeded to write his phone number in the mud...in two different places. When I finally got away from him, I saw my Moldovan language teachers huddles on the road laughing.

I also have a dog here, that waits for me to run every morning. I've named him Igor. I haven't seen him since I got back from Soroca, but for a week straight he waited outside the gate for me in the morning, we ran together, and when I got home, I gave him some bread. Don't be jealous, Louie.

What else? There's no word for privacy in Romanian, literally, and I got a good taste of that this weekend, as I was subject to so many host families in Rublenita. In Moldova they say that men represent the heads of bodies, and women the necks. Men can think they know what is right, but the neck has the final say on where you turn. I like this because it's a good way to sum up Moldovan culture in terms of gender roles. Women do so so so much work. My host mother works from 5am, until mdinight, without a single rest, and I'm not exaggerating. This season there is always something to do--canning veggies or fruits is just the beginning. But Tatiana says she'll do absolutely anything, work 24 hours a day if she had to, to keep her family together, which means not having her husband work abroad in Moscow, as he did for six months a while ago. The women work alll the time, but they do get credit for it. It's not overlooked. They're the necks of the country, and you'll frequently hear them refered to as Captian or Chief by their husbands.

Ok, time to scoot. Post to me about what you want to hear! June, I would love it so, so much if you sent me Charlotte's web, you are so thoughtful.

Love to all,
N.

Urinating in a water bottle...

...is not an original idea. I was pretty proud of myself for coming up with this, when at 3am I couldn't hold it, didn't want to walk in the cold, knew there was no light outside, and remembered that I had a bottle and scissors handy to cut the top off. When I was boasting about my ingenuity the next day I learned that I am not the only PC volunteer to ever do this.

Today our future sites were announced to us! I'm in a region called Soroca, which is known as the most beautiful part of the country, with the best camping. I'm really close to Kiev, in the Ukraine (which just ditched its visa policy for Americans!) and to Transnestria, the russian break-off area in moldova. Soroca has the largest gypsy population, so obviously my oral historian sensibilities are excited for that, and the village I'm in has a parent-child health center, which means I might be able to use my doula skills.

On Friday I meet with the director of the school, travel to Soroca with him, and spend the weekend there, meeting the mayor, hospital staff, and staying with the four host-families, one of which I'll choose to live with for the next two years. It should be an intense weekend. Soroca is about three hours north of Chisinau, the capital of Moldova, and minutes from another regional center called Balts.

The Romanian is coming along pretty quickly, I guess that's what five hours of language class, five days a week will do for you.

RE the wedge heels, since you all seemed to have gotten a good thrill out of that--I still use them, everyday. Ron, the shoe would fall about two feet down, and land in a pile of [cannot find a proper euphemism right now]. It's close enough that I could reach my hand down there and grab it, though surely I'd find another option. Just as when I was voting in the last election, Marie whispered in--don't vote for Bush by accident--everytime I enter the outhouse I imagine that heel in a pile of [].

My host father, Anatoli, just built a house for the pig the family recently bought. They are in the process of fattening up the pig so they will have pork throughout the winter. Ion, my host brother loves to poke me and laugh at the fact that I don't want to have a part on slaughtering the pig.

Now that most of the fruits are in full bloom--mulberries, cherries, sour cherries, raspberries, currants, aprictos, plums--the family has started to can them for the winter. It's an interesting process, that takes up a lot of time. You can only imagine my host mother's face when I told her how much raspberries cost in the states....they grow in her backyard rampantly, we eat them by the handful here.

We visited the south of Moldova yesterday, where we met the Gaguazian people, who are of Turkish decent, but left turkey b/c they were persecuted for their christian beliefs. Then we visited the Bulgarian community in Moldova, also in the south, where the whole town put on this huge performance for us.

What else? I have two more minutes of internet time. We're having a 4th of July celebration at our school in our little village tomorrow. We're making all american dishes--I'm bringing pb&banana sandwiches with honey right from my family's backyard. My host mother is going to sing and play her accordion, as usual.

Alright, more to come. Miss and love you all.